Everblaze (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 3) (39 page)

The dwarf let her go, begging her to call Sandor quickly. “He’s keeping the rebels off the sand. That’s where we have our advantage.”

Sophie
really
hoped she was doing the right thing as she took a breath and shouted, “Sandor, we need your help!”

“On my way,” Sandor called, tearing into the bushes.

The dwarves dove back into the ground, and their feet had barely disappeared when Sandor burst through the ferns behind Keefe, sword raised. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Sophie nodded, trying to figure out how to explain.

But Sandor was already sniffing the air. “Dwarves have been here.”

He took off after them, despite Sophie’s cries to stop, and the starlight around his neck cast a glow over the shadowy beach.

The cloaked figures had just set foot on the sand when they spotted Sandor—and the line of dwarves sending cracks rippling across the beach. They scrambled back into the water just in time to avoid sinking into the shore.

Sophie and Keefe caught up to Sandor as he drew his sword at the dwarves. “They’re with the Black Swan,” she told him. “They were trying to get us to lure the Neverseen onto the beach.”

“Yes, and it didn’t work,” the dwarves mumbled, shaking their furry heads.

The one who’d grabbed Sophie pointed to where the Neverseen were diving under the waves. “They came here through the water. I’m sure they’re leaving the way they came.”

Sandor reeled on him. “How do you know so much about them?”

“We know only what we observed.”

“And why were you observing?” Sandor demanded.

“Part of the plan. Which you have now ruined.”

Sandor lifted the dwarf by his furry shoulders. “Excuse me?”

The dwarf didn’t so much as blink—though his friends raised their feet, ready to stomp the ground any second.

“Uh, careful there, Gigantor,” Keefe warned. “I’m pretty sure they’re about to drop you into a sinkhole.”

“Only if he gives us a reason,” the dwarves told him.

Sandor pulled his hostage closer. “I’m only going to ask this once. What. Was. Your. Plan?”

“Watch, and wait, and if the rebels show up—catch them. It would’ve worked, if you hadn’t chased them off the sand.”

“You
planned
for us to be ambushed?” Sandor snarled.

“We suspected that you would be.”

“Why?” Sophie asked. “And why didn’t you warn us?”

“It was not our decision,” the dwarf told her, squirming out of Sandor’s grip like a cat. “I am sure our commander had his reasons.”

“And where is your
commander
?” Sandor asked.

“Monitoring the situation off site.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Of course he is. Why bother showing up for the meeting that
he
called?”

“This was never a meeting, Miss Foster. It was a test.”

“A test of what?” Keefe asked.

“Our security. And yours. And that is all I can tell you. Also, I must give you this.” He dug around his fur, pulling out a smooth, slightly opaque stone with a single facet along one edge. “Hold the moonstone to the light and it will create a path back to your home.”

Sophie reached to take it, but he insisted they give him the bottles of starlight—and the magsidian charm—first.

“Will you give your commander a message for us?” Keefe asked as Sandor grumpily made the trade.

The dwarves exchanged a glance, before their leader told Keefe, “Go ahead.”

Keefe stalked closer, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Tell him we passed his little test, so now he can pass one of ours. He’ll find instructions waiting in the cave in five days—and if he doesn’t follow them
exactly
, well . . . let’s just say there will be a mountain of sparkly poop with his name on it.”

FIFTY-TWO

R
EMIND ME NEVER TO LIGHT
leap again,” Keefe mumbled as Elwin sprayed a misty elixir under his nose and told him to take a deep breath.

Fade Fuel.

Sophie had hoped she’d never need the all-too-familiar elixir again. But Grady took one look at them when they got home and shouted for Edaline to hail Elwin.

“At least there are no other injuries this time,” Elwin said, flashing a yellow orb of light around Keefe and putting on his iridescent spectacles. “But you do have the most traumatized cells I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m not surprised, given what little I know about the unmapped stars,” Alden said as he paced the living room.

Sophie had hailed him the second they were home safe.

“Did you know it was possible to leap underground or under the ocean?” Grady asked him.

Alden shook his head. “I knew the light of the unmapped stars granted unusual abilities, but I never realized they defied our physical laws.”

“At quite a cost,” Elwin muttered, handing Sophie and Keefe two bloodred vials. “I need to completely rebuild your cells. Don’t worry—it’s painless. You’ll feel a bit itchy tonight, but I have a poultice that should help.”

Sophie downed the remedy, gagging as the cold liquid hit her throat.

Keefe barely managed to choke his down. “Okay, that’s not the worst thing I’ve ever tasted—but it might be a close second.”

“Oh, trust me, I have lots worse,” Elwin assured him. “Keep hanging around her and I bet you’ll get to try them. As for you”—he turned to Sandor—“I’m not sure any of my elixirs will work on your physiology. I can probably make some tweaks tonight—”

“I have a remedy of my own,” Sandor promised, removing a flat black flask from one of his pockets.

He took a huge swig, making his chest heave and his eyes tear. But the fit passed after a few seconds, and he looked much less pale.

“What is that?” Elwin asked, taking the flask and sniffing it. He gagged and handed it back. “Never mind—I don’t want to know.”

“You don’t,” Sandor agreed.

“So they’re going to be okay?” Edaline asked, smiling when Elwin nodded.

Her eyes looked tight and tired—but her voice was calm and steady as she asked, “Then what are we going to do about the next meeting with the Black Swan?”

“Assuming they even show up,” Sophie said through a sigh.

“Oh, they’ll show,” Keefe promised. “I threatened them with sparkly poop. Plus, we passed their test, so it’s only fair.”

“
Did
we pass?” Sophie asked. “The Neverseen still got away.”

“I’m not sure that’s what was being tested,” Alden said quietly. “I can only speculate of course, but it seems logical that today’s meeting was designed to discover the source of their leak. It’s what I would’ve done—create a scenario with a limited number of variables.”

“Like an island that can only be reached by very specific means,” Grady jumped in.

“Exactly,” Alden agreed. “Then send you there using a convoluted trail no one could possibly follow—”

“Like the light of five unmapped stars,” Edaline suggested.

Alden nodded. “And then monitor the situation from both inside and out, to gather the most possible information. I suspect that’s why this Mr. Forkle figure wasn’t there. He was likely following up on certain leads.”

“Meanwhile, we got to be the bait,” Sandor said, squeezing his flask so hard, he left dents in it.

“Highly protected bait,” Alden corrected. “They did have an entire fleet of dwarves there to protect you. And it was also meant to be a trap for the Neverseen, which would’ve been brilliant had it succeeded.”

But Sandor had scared them away too quickly.

“I wish they would’ve
told
us what they were doing,” Sophie said, kicking at the floor.

“Ah, but if they’d tipped you off, it would’ve tipped off their leak, as well,” Alden reminded her. “Everything is infinitely more complicated when you cannot trust your own organization.”

He shared a look with Grady that made Sophie wonder if he was referring to the Council, as well. Classified secrets were still continuing to leak.

But Sophie would have to worry about that another day.

For now, she was going to check on Silveny and try to get some sleep, despite the itch tickling her cells.

And then they had a meeting with the Black Swan to plan.

Keefe had agreed to come over the next day to brainstorm ideas, but he hailed Sophie in the morning to let her know he couldn’t make it. His parents had been surprisingly worried after he told them about the attack—especially his mom. And even though he promised he was okay, they’d asked him to stay home so they’d know he was safe.

Keefe sounded horrified at the idea of a long family day. But Sophie was happy for him. Maybe his parents were finally realizing how awesome their son was.

She tried to brainstorm plans alone, but everything sounded too obvious. Fitz and Biana weren’t much help either when they stopped by to check on her. Plotting and scheming really were Keefe’s forte.

But Keefe was busy the next day too. His dad had set them up a whole day together at the Sanctuary—and while Sophie was a little jealous that he got to check on Silveny, she knew once the Council ordered her punishment, she’d probably see the hyper alicorn every day.

Instead she used the time to finish organizing Edaline’s office, trying to keep her mind off the fact that the Councillors could be electing their newest member as early as the next day. The period for nominations closed at midday, and Grady explained that afterward they would sequester themselves in their castles and cast their votes using a network of mirrors. When all the mirrors aligned, a beam of light would refract off the castles, bright enough to be seen anywhere in the Lost Cities.

Everyone was expecting the consensus to happen immediately.

And yet when Sophie ran outside at noon the next day, she found nothing but blue sky and puffy white clouds. She stood there so long her neck started to ache, and still no flash appeared. When the sunset tinted everything pink and orange, Edaline served dinner picnic style and Grady gave an update on what little information he’d learned.

Master Leto was still the favorite—though an ancient elf Sophie had never heard of was a close second. Everyone was expecting the new Councillor to be male, since the Council usually had an even number of males and females. Still, there was no requirement that took females out of the running.

The night wore on, turning cold enough that Edaline conjured up fluffy blankets and warm petit fours called mooncakes, which tasted like fudge dipped in marshmallow and then drizzled with chocolate cream. They stretched out in the grass and watched the stars while Grady told stories about his adventures tracking down lost animals in the human world. He was in the middle of a story about an uncatchable yeti—which Sophie was pretty sure had inspired the abominable snowman legends—when a bright flash turned the night to day.

“Is that it?” she asked, already on her feet. “That has to be it, right?”

“It definitely is,” Grady agreed, glancing at Edaline.

“Okay, so . . . how do we know who it is?”

“A scroll should be delivered in the next few minutes.”

He’d barely finished the sentence when a courier glittered into the pastures and handed Grady a scroll sealed with golden wax.

“We can’t open it for another twenty-three minutes,” Grady explained, tucking the scroll in his pocket for safekeeping.

The elves liked to time their messages so everyone could hear the news as one. But the twenty-three minutes felt like twenty-three centuries, and Sophie had to resist the urge to tackle Grady and take it.

When it was time to break the seal, Sophie ripped it out of his hands. Her palms were sweaty and her heart was racing, but her lips curled into a smile when she finally read the name.

Their newest Councillor would be Dame Alina.

FIFTY-THREE

T
HE CROWD THAT GATHERED IN
front of the Councillor’s castles the next morning seemed to have mixed feelings about the election.

Dressed in their finest and bearing lavish gifts, they greeted their newest Councillor with a standing ovation as she appeared with the other eleven Councillors on the arched crystal stage that had been created for the occasion.

But when the applause died down, Sophie could hear the whispers and mutterings:

We needed someone stronger.

Someone with more experience.

Someone to take control.

Even those in favor were concerned about the upheaval this would cause at Foxfire.

But Dame Alina—no,
Councillor
Alina, Sophie corrected—smiled and waved like she had no idea they were discontent. Her pale green gown was understated compared to her usual fare, but her silver cape and peridot-encrusted circlet made her every bit as regal as the rest of the Council. And she held her head high, dipping the most elegant curtsy Sophie had ever seen as she stepped forward to address her people.

“Thank you,” she called, her sharp voice slicing through the chilly morning air. “Thank you for such an incredible welcome. It is truly my honor to come before you today.”

She fell silent, and Sophie wondered if that was all she was going to say.

But Councillor Alina turned and pointed to the ruins of Eternalia in the distance. “I cannot ignore that this position I’ve been given is the result of one of the greatest tragedies our world has ever seen. Nor would I want to. That’s why I’ve chosen this color for my crown. I want my time ruling to stand in memorial to what we’ve lost, and as a testimony to what we will regain.”